Fair Weather Friends
by HotChilliGriffin
Summary: An idea for Season 4, no relation to flashforward. Set after freighterpeople arrive. Skate. M for language and maybe some other stuff I'll put in. Please read and review! It means so much to me! Hiatus over.
1. Chapter 1

Quick Note: A scenario for what could happen season 4, when the frieghter people come, and fully Skate. Please review if you like it, or I'm going to suffer real self-confidence issues (Just kidding, but still, it'd be nice).

PS. This is that bit where I remind you that I don't own Lost, and add some remark that if I did I would either be living on a tropical island (pardon the pun) and that I wish I did. RE: what I just said. (Don't sue me! cringe)

* * *

**Chapter One**

Kate looked at the girl, slightly amused. She was lying on her back on the small cot in one corner, and Kate couldn't help but notice her lips moving, though no sound reached her. There were several cages here – at least ten – but only two had occupants. One, of course, was herself – the other was the young girl, maybe late teens or early twenties.

How long had she been here? She wondered, blinking slowly. She couldn't remember. Maybe a day, or two. It could be a week for all she knew – time moved slowly, and the only light came from a fluorescent bulb hanging from the ceiling, right between the two cages, so it hurt Kate's eyes every time she looked out.

Not that there was much to look at – except for the girl, who hadn't spoken a word to Kate since she'd arrived, her wrists bound and bleeding, her face wet with tears. Her hair was a dark brownish red, and quite long – she'd noticed the girl kept it plaited to keep it out of her eyes.

"What are you doing?" Kate asked eventually. The girl looked over, and sat up. She had an expression of interest on her face, but also a sense of calculation – as if wondering exactly what she could gain from Kate's arrival. Kate wondered how long the girl had been there.

"Counting," she replied, her voice steady and calm. Her eyes pierced the distance between them, a shockingly bright blue which flashed purple when she turned her head. Kate was instantly reminded of how Jack had taught her to count to stay unafraid. Trapped in this under-water prison, maybe her cell-mate was doing everything she could to keep the fear at bay... But it certainly didn't look like it. It was impossible to imagine fear crossing those rough features.

"Why?" Kate asked. The girl looked at her, slightly confused.

"Why what?" she asked.

"Why are you counting?"

"Why not?" the girl replied, and Kate had to bite her tongue to stop herself saying something sarcastic. If she was to get out of here, she'd need all the allies she could get, and starting with her fellow prisoner was smart.

"What does it get you?" Kate asked, though she was beginning to dread the response.

"What do you get from sitting there doing nothing?" the girl asked. Kate wondered whether she should snap at her, tell her to stop answering questions with more questions.

"I don't get anything from it. I just... have nothing else to do."

"Exactly. And I get nothing from this. But if nothing happens either way, what does it matter?" the girl asked, rolling her eyes slightly. Kate couldn't reply.

The girl waited a few moments, before sighing, and lying down again. Within moments, she had resumed the motion of her lips. For a second, Kate wondered whether what she had said was true – after all, who was she to get a truthful response? But then, if she wasn't counting, like she said, Kate couldn't see what else she was doing. Another person maybe would have been praying or planning an escape. Neither of those seemed to fit with the girl opposite her.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Finn," the girl replied, this time without looking up.

"Hi. I'm Kate," Kate said. No answer. "How long have you been here?"

"Define 'here'," said Finn. Kate frowned.

"In this prison. Where else?"

"A couple of years. And I didn't know whether you meant here as in down here, or here as in where the boat is anchored right now, or on this planet..."

"Have you ever been off this planet?" Kate asked. Somehow, the stupid answers only sucked her in further. Everything seemed oddly logical, despite the craziness of everything around them.

"No. Not in this life, at least. Have you?"

"No."

"Not ever?"

"I don't think so," Kate replied. She was beginning to wonder about the sanity of the girl. If she'd been locked up for years... oh god. They wouldn't keep her down here for years would they? Why were they keeping her down here at all?

"Why are you down here?" she asked, hoping to gain some insight into her own imprisonment.

"Because if I'm on deck I keep trying to run off. I've made it to land six times. Once I evaded capture for a whole week, but then I had to come back because I ran out of food."

"Why not find your own food? It's not easy, I know, but it's possible..."

"Oh, but why should I? If I stay here I get free meals three times a day."

That answered one of Kate's questions – no-one had come down here since she'd been locked up, so it couldn't be too long. Odd. It felt like a long, long time. Her whole life seemed to be nothing by a speck on the thread of time, until she ended up in this gaol, in the bowels of a freighter ship.

"Why are you on the boat at all?" Kate asked, returning to her original question.

"Because I'm not on land," Finn replied, her voice making out that Kate must be simple. And she felt dumb – indeed, if she wasn't on land, she had to be on a ship, didn't she? She shook her head and returned to her own world of logic.

"Do you want to be here?" she asked, then immediately regretted it. Hopefully they wouldn't enter another discussion of defining 'here'.

"Well, there's nowhere else I particularly want to be, so..." she shrugged.

"Is Finn your whole name, or a nickname?" Kate asked. The girl didn't seem dangerous, even if she was insane, and she was more interesting than the dark stains on the floor of Kate's cell.

"Dunno," Finn replied. Kate narrowed her eyes.

"How can you not know?"

"Everyone's just always called me Finn. I'm an orphan, you see. My parents could have named me something longer, but if they did, I wasn't ever told."

"Oh. Who raised you?"

"My brother, Russ," Finn said. "His name is short for Russell."

"I guessed as much," Kate said wryly.

"What did your parents call you?" Finn asked. Kate started, though it took her a moment to work out why – it was the first question the girl had asked her. The conversation so far had been rather one sided.

"Katherine," Kate replied slowly.

"I like Kate better," Finn commented. "Less syllables."

"Too many syllables in the word syllables," Kate replied, then wanted to kick herself. Just cause her companion was crazy, didn't mean she got to start saying odd things, too!

"Wow. How insightful," Finn murmured. There was a lull in the conversation, and Kate wondered whether Finn had resumed counting, though the girl still faced her through the bars.

"Say, how close are we to land?" Finn asked suddenly.

"Why?" Kate asked.

"Because if I'm going to escape, I can't do it when we're in the middle of the ocean. That would be stupid." Kate was impressed – at some point, she'd assumed the girl had lost all her logic skills.

"How will you escape?" she asked.

"Are we near land?"

"Yes, but I don't see how that's going to do you any good –"

"How far off shore?"

"A few miles," Kate said doubtfully. "At least, when they brought us over, I think it was about that."

Her chest clenched as she thought about that – where was Sawyer? They'd been separated, and only then had Kate's iron hard resolve faltered.

"That's not too far..." Finn mused, and Kate glanced up sharply. However crazy she may be, if she knew a way out, she'd prove very useful...

"You'd have to steal a boat," Kate said thoughtfully. Finn looked at her sideways.

"Hell no! They'd notice me if I did that. I'll have to swim."

"What?! That's way too far!"

"I'm a good swimmer," Finn said, shrugging. Kate's new-found confidence in her friend's logic vanished.

Despite her talk, though, no escape plans came into effect just then. Kate sighed, and sat down, while Finn looked at the door to her cell, thinking hard. Only after Kate thought the conversation was long over did the girl speak again.

"Ah, fuck it," she muttered, pulling off her belt. Using the tab – which looked a lot thinner than a belt buckle should be – she expertly picked the lock on her cell door, and in less than a second it swung open. Kate stood up, excited, waiting for the girl to open her cage, too.

But she didn't. She replaced her belt, turned, and bolted for the door. Kate blinked, losing a few seconds, before calling after her.

"Hey! What about me?"

"You want out, do it yourself!" Finn called back, and with that, was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Quick Note: Umm... reviews? Please? Just so I know I'm not wasting my time here... Seriously, if I don't think anyone is liking this, I'll stop. (And if you want to tell me to stop, well, I'd prefer it if you lied.)

The last chapter was very random, I know. This story works on a present/flashback basis. And there is a plot somewhere – I'll find it somewhere in the next few chapters.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Sawyer saw the shot, heard the shot, saw Jack fall, heard Kate scream... everything around him blurred. He felt dizzy, and sick. How could this shit be happening? After everything they'd gone through so far, now they had to survive an attack from the people who were supposed to be rescuing them!

Suddenly, enough of his senses returned for him to notice Kate, leaning down to Jack, her voice, calling out to Jack... her worry for Jack. It sickened him, and he wanted to turn away. But then he caught a flash, saw something out of the corner of his eyes – one of the attackers was pointing a gun, right at Kate!

With a roar, Sawyer launched himself forward. How he covered that distance in less than a second, no-one would be able to tell him. He grabbed Kate, and helped her run, towards the trees, the jungle – their only hope. The gun fired behind them, and he felt the bullet sizzle past his back. Kate was struggling against him, trying to go back, like she always did – trying to go back for Jack. Sawyer closed his eyes, and pushed on. Only a few more metres, and they would be safe. Just a few more metres. It didn't help that Kate was using every muscle in her body to fight him, scratch him, push him away.

He knew if he let her go, she'd be killed. And even if he couldn't have her, he wasn't selfish enough to say no-one could have her. Her screams were digging at him, and he closed his heart to it. Another step, and they'd be in the jungle. Just one more step...

* * *

"You shouldn't have done it," Kate said. Sawyer ignored her. She wasn't really talking to him. Really, she was sulking. He didn't know she could do that, but the sullen tone and heavy steps behind him proved it. "Did you hear me? You should have left me there!"

"Weren't no chance of that happening, Sugar. I was getting you off that damn beach, no matter how many times you hit me."

He still felt sick. They were walking through serene jungle, the leaves around them barely stirring. Safe. But he still felt sick. People he'd known and lived with ever since the crash were still on that beach. Dead. Dying. Captured. He was almost sure Jack was dead. Though maybe not. He couldn't think about it now.

"Why did you come back?" Kate asked.

"I saw smoke. Knew something was wrong."

"So? Since when do you care?"

"When do you think I stopped caring?" Sawyer asked, spinning around to face her. She raised defiant eyes, and he stared right back. Neither of them moved. The creak of crickets sounded, but neither noticed.

"I never stopped caring," Sawyer muttered. "Good thing, too. Weren't for me, you'd be back there with a chunk of lead in your side!"

"Maybe that's where I should be," Kate said grimly. He could only stare at her.

"My God, Kate – it's been a week! One week that we haven't spoken, and you're already suicidal!"

"I'm not suicidal. I'm just saying –"

"What? You deserve it?" From the way she bit her lip and wouldn't look at him, he knew he'd hit on the truth. He wished he could say things had been going well before he'd left, but if they had been, he probably wouldn't have left in the first place. His absence had only allowed the wound to fester.

"You don't understand, Sawyer," Kate said, and continued walking forward. With an unhappy sigh, he followed her.

* * *

"Where are we going, exactly?" he asked, taking a few long strides to catch up to her. It was the first thing either of them had said since their last spat of conversation, which had been at least an hour ago, each of them focusing on their own thoughts.

"I'm following you," Kate replied, then stopped, noticing his superior smirk.

"Amazing how you can do that when you're out in front," he said, taking another step closer. She scowled, and kept walking. Normally, that was the sort of smart-arse comment that would see her struggling not to smile, but today wasn't normal. Today wasn't even close to being anywhere near normal. Sawyer sighed, and started after her.

"My feet hurt," he complained when she picked up the pace. The childish whine was enough to make her stop again. Now that he could actually see her face, he reiterated his question. "So, where are we going?"

"Don't know," Kate replied wearily. "Away. Anywhere."

"Where's that?" Sawyer asked cheekily. For a second, she almost smiled. Then her face clouded over.

"That's not funny," she snapped, stalking away from him.

"It is funny. You're just not in a laughing mood," he replied.

"Wonder why that would be?" she remarked sarcastically. Then she stopped. Sawyer also stopped, a step behind her. A shiver ran down his spine. Something in her voice, the tension in her shoulders, warned him, and he stepped backwards –

– as she spun around and punched him. Or tried to. His back peddle was enough for her to miss, and overbalance. He caught her as she tripped, and pulled her towards him.

"Y'know, where I come from, domestic violence is a big problem," he said, holding her loosely. She glared up at him, but he didn't miss the flicker in her eyes. The desire. The anxious, brooding fear.

"Let me go," she said, wrenching herself away. But he hadn't been holding her tightly, and all she did was trip over again. Feeling clumsy and even more irritated, she picked herself up, and he winced.

"Ooh, I'm in big trouble now," he said softly. His calm, easy manner was cracking her. He could see she was struggling not to hit him. He was surprised she couldn't see how forced it was – he wasn't immune to pain. He hadn't been blind to the pain and violence on the beach. But he was a soldier at heart, and knew it was in the past – all he could do now was get away from here, save Kate, stop her from falling into the well of misery he felt just under her skin. They couldn't cry until they were safe.

"Shut up," she whispered, her hands clenched. He smirked.

"Why?" The superior smile never left his face. She could see he was mocking her, taunting her.

"SHUT UP!" she yelled, taking a step towards him. Alarmed, he moved back, then immediately berated himself for it. He wondered if she would start crying. God, he hoped not.

"Kate," he said, losing the smirk and moving towards her once again.

"Go away," she snarled, marching into the jungle ahead of them. He waited a few moments, before shrugging to himself, and following her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three**

There was a scraping noise, a footstep – almost before her conscious understood it, Kate was awake and sitting up. The cot in the corner was small, and the blanket thin – but somehow, she had been tired. Emotionally drained might be a better way of describing it.

A dark haired man came into view. He barely glanced at the open cage door opposite her, where Finn had been. He showed no surprise, and turned to Kate.

"How long has she been gone?" he asked. She shrugged, not really wanting to be helpful.

"There a clock in here I haven't seen yet?" she asked, a faint trace of sarcasm in her voice. He gave a small smile.

"I could get you one," he offered. She couldn't tell whether he meant it or not. There was a sardonic quality to him that reminded her slightly of Sawyer. She hadn't seen him before – and she thought to herself that she would remember if she had. He was tall, but not thin. He had strong, broad shoulders and chiselled features that sparked something in her memory. She couldn't place it until she saw the dark blue – almost violet – flash in the man's eyes.

"Are you related to her?" she asked. She didn't mention that she already knew the girl's name, or her suspicion that this was the brother Finn had mentioned.

"She's my sister," he said. Kate searched for his name, knowing the girl had mentioned it, but it wouldn't come.

"So why do you keep her locked up?" Kate asked, curious as ever. She rationalised it for herself, thinking that the more she knew about these people, the easier it would be to escape.

"Because otherwise she runs away," the man replied. Kate suppressed a groan. She was wise enough not to get into another circular conversation.

"Are you going to go after her now?" she asked. He glanced at the empty cage again, the door brazenly open, as if defiantly advertising the escape.

"Soon enough," he said, leaning back against the wall opposite her. It made her uncomfortable, the way his piercing eyes shot across the gap. She forced herself not to look down, and met his eyes as steadily as she could. He smiled, and blinked slowly. She bit her tongue so as not to copy him.

The silent battle of wills went on for a few minutes. Then he laughed softly, though not unkindly.

"Word to the wise, _Kate_," he said, and she started a little when he said her name. "Eyes down. Don't do anything stupid. And for now at least, we keep you alive."

* * *

Finn ducked out from under the tarpaulin on the deck of the great freighter, quickly looking around. No-one was watching her – it had been an hour or so, she guessed. It would be unfair to take off without giving her brother any clues. Before anyone could notice the waving edge of tarpaulin, the one that was supposed to be covering the crates full of food that kept their protein levels up while at sea, Finn was scampering across, towards the low railing.

It was only a few metres. She made it in two and half seconds. Without hesitating, she swung over the barrier and slid down the side of the freighter – she carefully slowed her descent, and entered the water at ninety degrees, determined not to give away her escape with a splash.

She could see land, barely two or three miles away. She gave a small smile, treading water. For a second, she wondered whether she had done wrong leaving the other woman behind. But then again, her escape had to be perfect, if she didn't want them to catch her.

There was one very easy way to stop anyone from seeing her as she swam towards the island – swim underwater. She could hold her breath for nearly two minutes, but paced herself and came up for air every minute or so. She reached the shore without even breaking a sweat or straining a muscle.

Pleased with herself, Finn looked up dubiously at the jungle. It certainly wasn't inviting. But it had to be better than that ship, right? The meat on board was tough. The fruit supply only lasted a week after they left land, and by the end would be very squishy and horrible. It was dark in the cells, and bright on deck. The beds were awful, even the captains.

Finn gave a small shiver at the thought of the captain, a thick set man with dark eyes named Drake. Everyone she knew called him 'sir' or 'the Captain', however, and she avoided him as best she could. Thinking of him, waiting back there, was enough incentive to make Finn shake away the feeling of foreboding and move into the jungle.

* * *

Kate felt like screaming. How could this happen – twice? Bad enough that she was captured and caged by one set of maniacs. Now another group; and to be honest, this second group scared her more than the Others did. She still felt sick when she remembered the attack on their beach. They'd fed her – a mango and a few strips of dried meat, and a bottle of water. She'd eaten the mango, but had been hesitant to eat the meat. She was only a semi-vegetarian, but still...

Eventually, hunger had made her relent. She wondered where Finn had gone, and whether she was on land. Somehow, the idiotic remarks she had made earlier seemed even worse, even more weird, without the girl there to reassure her that – at least in comparison – she was completely sane.

Worst of all, she had no idea where Sawyer was. She needed to know that he was all right. What were they doing here? Interestingly, why had they been caught and brought here, instead of killed outright, like so many others?

Kate rubbed her face with one hand. More than anything, she was getting restless, and bored. How long had it been? She found herself wishing she had taken up Finn's brother's offer of a clock. Though it seemed bizarre.

She lay down on the small cot, ignoring the chill that came from being under water. This place was always too hot, too cold, too wet... she was heartily sick of it all. And she was heartily sick of being captured. Now... all she had to do was rectify that.


	4. Chapter 4

Quick Note: Hello? Reviews? Please? If there's anything you like/dislike, please tell me, and if necessary, I'll rectify it! Desperate writer here...

* * *

**Chapter ****Four**

"Are we going to stop?" Kate asked wearily, as the sun slipped out of sight. They had been saying random things that could almost qualify as conversation for the last two hours or so. Sawyer let the silence stretch out, and then he looked around.

"Why stop?" he asked in reply. Talking about nothing was better than thinking about something. The something wouldn't leave their thoughts, and Kate was finally able to see what effort it was taking Sawyer to act so unconcerned and prevent them both from falling into a pit of self blame and horror.

"I'm tired," Kate admitted. She knew they weren't going to stop. They were both the sort of people to have nightmares, flashbacks of horror from their lives, and there was no way they were going to sleep tonight. Not with the attack still fresh in their minds.

"So am I, Freckles. So am I."

"So why not stop?"

"They're probably on our tails. Hell, could be listening to us right now," Sawyer said. They both knew it was a lie. They were both able to detect the stillness of the jungle around them. No-one was following, at least not closely. But Kate didn't want to stop, to sleep, to scream, any more than he did. She dropped that particular line of questioning.

"Why did you come back?" she asked instead, a question she must have asked at least ten times that day.

"I needed to," he replied. Each time, his answer was slightly different. Each time, it gave her a little more insight into his actions.

"Why'd you leave in the first place?"

"I had to."

"What's the difference between needing to, and having to?"

"Needing is for yourself. You have to do things for others."

"Oh."

* * *

They couldn't light torches – neither having a lighter or matches. Besides, there wasn't all that much to see. Jungle. More jungle. A gap in the trees to their left, and beyond that, more jungle.

"I'm thirsty," Kate said a little while after darkness had come completely. They hadn't passed any rivers or streams lately, and of course, they hadn't anything with them.

"Keep an eye out for water," Sawyer replied. He was thirsty, too, but if he had pulled himself out of his tired daze he might have realised Kate was perilously close to dehydration. Her voice was dry and cracked, her lips chapped, and she was stumbling frequently – though that might have been because of the all encompassing darkness.

"You shouldn't have come back," she murmured. Her eyes were mostly closed. She couldn't see with them open, and she was so tired. She stumbled, and he automatically put out an arm to steady it. It wasn't a conscious gesture. Neither was the impatient feeling in his chest, as he waited for her to ask _why_ he had come back. And then she would ask why he had left.

But she didn't.

* * *

Dawn came, and the first few birdcalls were enough to rouse Sawyer. Kate was sleeping in his arms. They were inside a cocoon of branches that kept out some of the night chill. They hadn't been able to walk all night. Upon seeing this meagre shelter, Sawyer had folded, his knees hitting the earth, barely having the strength to catch Kate as she fell down beside him.

All at once, he was alert. His eyes gazed around them, looking for anything out of place. Was anyone near? Had anyone come past in the night? They'd fallen into such a deep sleep, they hadn't dreamed, and he was thankful for that. For a few short, blissful hours, he had stopped thinking about what had happened on the beach.

Kate stirred, pushing herself away from the warmth of his body. She blinked, confused, and he watched unhappily as realisation came to her. For a moment, it seemed as if she would shatter – her expression was so open and vulnerable he couldn't bare it. Then she saw him watching, and her face closed.

"Get up," she said harshly.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, stretching. She glared at him. "What's got your mango in a twist, then?"

"We need to go back," she said. He stared at her.

"I believe you said this yesterday," he reminded her. "And I didn't agree then and I ain't agreeing now." Sawyer was all too aware that danger lay behind them – perhaps the invaders would have taken their spoils (whatever they were) and left. Of perhaps not. And there was no way he was going to lead them back into danger.

"You stay here then. Or keep walking. Whatever."

"Oh, no, Freckles," he said, pulling himself to his feet beside her. "I ain't letting you out of my sight. And there is no chance of getting me to go back to that damn beach."

"Just because you think you do better alone in the jungle, doesn't mean you can push me around," she told him, turning away so she couldn't see his expression. He was glad she wasn't looking at him.

"What you meant to say there, was, I _shouldn't _push you around'. But out here, Freckles, there ain't a damn thing you can do to stop me," he replied harshly.

"What can you do?" she asked, still facing away from him. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm not letting you go back, for a start."

"You have no right," she snarled, spinning around and taking a step towards him. He noticed her hands were clenched – to stop herself from hitting him, or to stop him from seeing how much they were shaking? Probably both, he realised.

"After everything that's happened between us, Sweetheart, I have every right to stop you from going on a kamikaze mission."

"You would never let me stop you," she muttered. For the first time, he noticed how dry her lips were, and he made a mental note to find a river, as soon as they stopped arguing.

"Well, good thing we're talking about you and not me," Sawyer said, flashing a sardonic smile. She growled something under her breath, and began to walk away.

"Where you going?" he asked. She glanced back at him.

"Away from you."

"We should find some water. And food," he said, following her. She made no protest.

"How do you suggest we do that?" she asked.

"You're the tracker, you tell me," he replied.

"Head downhill," she decided after a short pause. "And then we head back."

Sawyer didn't argue. No point in telling her it wasn't going to happen.


	5. Chapter 5

Quick Note: Please, people, review! It doesn't take long! I'd do the same for you! I'm just about ready to join that writer's strike...

* * *

**Chapter Five**

Kate chose to accept the advice given, and didn't try anything. Not for a while, at least. She figured that had to count for something. She was vaguely aware of the difference between night and day now – at night, the vibrations of the ship lessened; she assumed it was because everyone was sleeping. But apart from that, the only thing that happened to break the stiff monotony of sitting in her cell and pacing around it was the thrice-daily meal time. It wasn't very good food. The water, however, she was glad of.

She was losing her mind. There was nothing to look at. No-one to talk to – Finn hadn't come back, and the guards never shared a word with her. It made her uneasy, as well – why bring her here? Why hadn't they killed her? Not that she wanted to be killed – she just thought it odd for them to go to all the trouble.

She was worried about Sawyer, too. He could take care of himself, but his temper was likely to get him into trouble. She remembered how badly he'd been treated when they'd been held by the Others. She could only hope he'd learnt some sense, and would keep his head down. Her hopes, however, probably had very little chance of being accurate.

Eventually, she couldn't stand it any more. By her count, it had been four days. Four days, and no-one had said a word to her. She tried asking one of the guards who fed her what she was being held for, but he just turned his back on her and left, oblivious to her angry remarks.

"That is it," she muttered to herself after another failed attempt at questioning her captors. She had run her fingers many times over the bars that made up this cage, and was able to determine the easiest way out. That had, she calculated, been her 'dinner' meal, and she now had the whole night to get out.

The bars were a mix of metal and wood – some of the older ones were wooden, and where they'd broken or worn away, metal bars had been installed. Kate waited a little while, until she was reasonably sure no-one would be awake, and levelled a kick at what she judged to be the weakest of the wooden bars. It shivered when her foot made contact, but didn't break.

Focusing carefully, trying to centre herself, she kicked again, and a large splinter came away, nearly burying itself in her eye. Grimacing, she kicked again, and this time the entire bar bent outwards, and with a final effort, snapped into two.

The hole this created was nearly wide enough for her to slip through. She ducked down, and squeezed through, splinters catching on her clothes and in her hair. Once out, she stared around, slightly confused. Clenching her teeth, she reached back into the cell and grabbed the splinter that had nearly blinded her – it was a crude weapon, but certainly enough to do some damage.

Slightly emboldened, she headed for the door. It opened smoothly, and she briefly wondered why – wouldn't you want your prison door to be as noisy as possible? Then the thought vanished, and Kate was peering outside. A hallway stretch away from her, and then reached a corner. She hazarded that the corner hid a stairwell, and she knew that to get away she had to head up.

A nagging concern for Sawyer – and any of her other friends, who may be here – lingered. She didn't know where they were, however, or if they were even alive. Maybe Sawyer had already made his escape, she thought. That's what the old Sawyer would have done – before he fell in love with her. Would he still think of 'every man for himself'? Part of her was revolted that he might, that he would abandon her without a thought. Part of her fervently wished that he had.

Sure enough, she came to a set of stairs. She had to wipe her hands on her jeans, noticing how sweaty they were. She took a quick peek around the corner, up the stairs, then ducked back, her heart hammering. She hadn't seen anything. Again, she looked – still nothing. Swallowing, and unable to help but remember Finn's brother's warning, she quietly ascended the steps.

For the next few minutes, it was a harried game of peek and hide – check each corner before moving around it, ready to bolt the other direction at the first hint that someone had seen her, heart hammering the whole time. At one point, she heard a slow footstep walking the hallway above her – she'd been rather shocked, seeing as she had thought she was finally on the top level of the freighter.

She knew she'd have to steal a boat. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do so silently, so she'd have to work hard to get to the beach – and away – before any pursuit caught up with her. She wondered how Finn had managed – she still rankled at being left behind by the young girl, but she didn't blame her.

When she finally reached the deck, it was to a inky black sky, as smooth as velvet and only broken by the hundreds of glittering stars. She breathed in the night air, and felt her body warm even in the cool breeze – a few days had been enough to stir the deep instincts in her, and being locked up inside was hard to bear.

She glanced around carefully. The entire deck, covered with tarpaulins and large crates and various ropes and electronic devices, was deserted. Once again, she thought this was odd. No guard? Were they stupid or arrogant? A tingle ran up her spine. She clutched her pitiful weapon tighter, wondering if the old piece of wood was strong enough to stab someone with. She couldn't help but think she'd look a real idiot if she made to attack someone and it broke apart in her hand.

She ran the few steps to the edge of the freighter. God-damn, this ship was big. The only thing between her and freedom – apart from the vast expanse of water and the inevitable chase – was a small, knee-high railing – to stop the various bits of ship equipment from sliding off, not to help a person.

"It's a lovely night," a voice said from behind her. Kate spun, holding her wooden stake out in front of her. Would she be able to take a step backwards, jump into the water? Of course, she had no chance swimming... but she thought she'd rather drown trying to escape than have one of them kill her.

"It's a little too far for swimming," the voice said, and Kate saw a dark figure step forward. It was Finn's brother – Russ, she thought, his name coming back to her after niggling her subconscious for four days.

"Your sister managed it," she said tightly, shifting one foot back, towards the edge. With a start, she realised the water would be very cold, if she did jump in. The idea wasn't appealing. The whole time, she kept the wooden stake out in front of her, as if the mere presence of it would be enough to stop him from coming closer.

"You think I'm a vampire?" he asked, the question so odd that at first she couldn't grapple the meaning. Then she smiled wryly.

"You're nasty enough," she replied. Oddly, she didn't feel afraid. She was here, talking about what a nice night it was, and she suddenly realised he wasn't going to kill her. He had a plan, she was sure of it. For now, at least, she was safe. Well, not safe, but she didn't have to worry about him killing her out of hand on a whim.

"I'm nowhere near as bad as some of the other fellows on this ship. The captain, for instance," Russ said with a laugh, and a significant look he knew she wouldn't understand. There was a pause, and he evaluated her steadily. "Put it down," he eventually said, softly, almost sadly.

Kate stared at him defiantly for a few moments. _Just one man. Kill him, wound him, knock him out, just something to give you time to get away..._

She lowered her arm, but her glare did not falter. His eyes looked almost black in the night, and his sharp features cast shadows across one side of his face, the light from the crescent moon dripping down softly. After a few tense seconds, in which neither of them moved, she dropped the stake completely, and he gave a small smile. Not a cruel or mocking smile, nor an ironic one – a friendly smile, that made her want to trust him. She grit her teeth and forced herself not to stop glaring at him.

"Let's go back to your cell, shall we? You can try escaping another night," Russell said. Kate's mouth twisted wryly.

"I broke it," she said, with only half-hearted sarcasm.

"Ah well. What cannot be prevented must be endured, my mother always said," Russ replied.


	6. Chapter 6

Quick Note: Huge thanks to my one reviewer - I'm updating now because of those sweet words.

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**Chapter Six**

Three days passed. Sawyer and Kate headed south-west, into largely unexplored areas of the island – they didn't want to run into the Others while running away from the new threat. Kate had at one point referred to their attackers as 'the New Others', which Sawyer had scoffed at.

"So what do you want to call them?" she asked.

"Well, you can't just call them the New Others. Because then the Old Others might get offended," he replied cheekily. His sarcasm and weak puns were all that kept her going now, and he knew it. So he kept a steady stream of words that meant little but were the only way of filling the huge hole of despair they each carried around.

"So what? The Ship-People? Ship-Others?" Kate suggested, giving him a weak smile, one that he was thrilled to see. It meant Kate was coming back.

"The Evil Bastards Who Attacked Us In The Middle Of The Night?" he replied, grinning. He still had no idea what they were doing or where they were going, or if they would go back, but he knew he wasn't going to do anything rash. That wasn't really part of his temperament, being patient, but with Kate in his care, he would check the list twice.

"The Others, Version 2," Kate replied. Sawyer had laughed, but hadn't replied for a few minutes.

"It's good," he mumbled eventually. Why hadn't he thought of that? "But it makes them sound like a computer program."

"Computer virus, more like," Kate replied, her new-found smile vanishing. They kept walking in silence.

The physical barriers – gullies, thick stands of trees that couldn't be pushed or hacked through, the sounds of animals moving in the bushes around them – they barely noticed, having been trekking to various places around Craphole Island for at least three months. Maybe three and a half. Kate sighed. Four months seemed like a long time. Sawyer looked up, but didn't say anything.

It was nearing midday when they stopped, and Kate didn't seem very interested in eating, even though she should have been ravenous. They'd been walking on nothing but papayas for several hours now, but it was the ache in Sawyer's feet rather than his stomach that had convinced him to call a break.

"Did you ever actually have to run?" he had asked as they'd sat down. For a few moments, she'd just stared at him in confusion. He elaborated. "I don't mean metaphorically, or in a car... did you ever have to get up on your feet and run away?"

Kate swallowed. "A couple of times. They'd come close, without me knowing, and that was all that saved me."

"You move around a lot?" he asked. She couldn't help giving him a slight glare. She didn't want to talk about it. He knew that.

"Wouldn't you?" she asked. He didn't say anything, and she had to say something to break the silence. "Even when I thought I was safe, I never stayed. I tried, several times. Never could."

"Well," he said after an uncomfortable break. "That does explain a lot."

"You didn't pick up on that the first week?" she asked, a hint of irony in her voice.

"Well, yeah. Everyone did. But I never heard you admit it before."

"Why does it matter?" she asked tiredly. He gazed around them.

"The first step to recovery is admitting the problem," he quoted, and this time she really glared at him.

"You think I have a problem?" she asked harshly. "Whose idea was it to keep going, not to go back?"

"I'm not saying you have a problem. Just quoting the ol' AA proverb," he replied. She stared at him, disgusted. Well, it wasn't surprising – they'd managed half a week without an argument, they were well due for one.

"What does that have to do with _anything_?" she asked.

"Do you think they're dead?" he asked softly. Kate was caught off-guard, just as he'd known she would be. She silently cursed him, even as she struggled not to show how unnerved she was. She failed, of course.

"What sort of question is that?" she asked angrily.

"Answer it."

"Do you?"

"I asked first," he pointed out. She narrowed her eyes.

"Maybe. There's probably lots who made it to the jungle, like us. I know some of them are dead. I saw Locke... and Jin... oh God." Kate's breath caught, and her eyes misted as the memories came back to her. Sawyer moved so that he was sitting beside her. "I saw Jack get shot," she whispered, burying her face in his arm. The irony of the statement and the action didn't pass Sawyer by.

"Don't mean he's dead, though," Sawyer said, trying to reassure her. "I've been shot before. I'm still here."

"I tried to get to him. I was going to help, but then you... you..." Kate pushed herself away. He was gazing at her sorrowfully, like a puppy that's been caught stealing food from the table. "You pulled me away. You made me go, and left him there to die!" she yelled at him.

"If I hadn't done what I did, you'd be back there with him," Sawyer snapped back, his hurt twisting into self-righteous anger.

"Why did you come back?" she screamed, so loud a few birds took off from the branches above them in alarm. Even Sawyer couldn't help himself, and took a step back. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen her this angry. Usually her anger was of the cold-shoulder, smouldering variety, not this raging tempest.

"I saved your life," he said coolly.

"I didn't ask you to," she snapped back. Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked off. Not having any packs or supplies, there was nothing to make her hesitate for even a second, and by the time Sawyer had garnered a reply, she was already too far away to hear it.

"I did it anyway, Freckles. And I'd do it again."


	7. Chapter 7

Quick Note: Okay, this is a warning – this chapter is M. Nothing immensely graphic, but horrible and enough out of my usual style that I'm telling all the under-sixteens to close their eyes for a page or so.

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**Chapter Seven**

Kate woke the next morning, and sighed regretfully. From here, diving into the water last night looked like a good option. She bit her lip, and noticed someone had already left a scanty breakfast. It made her uncomfortable, knowing that someone had been able to come in and then go out without her knowing it.

She was right back where she had been yesterday – except in the next cage along. She wondered idly what they'd do with her if she tried to break out again and broke a hole in all of the cells. _They'll have more somewhere_, she thought bitterly. Then she brightened – they had to have more cells. Where were they keeping Sawyer?

She refused to admit that he might be dead. He was too threaded into her life for her to lose him – if she did, she'd unravel. He was the only one who could accept her for who she was. She didn't feel safe unless he was there. It was corny, and she hated it, but she couldn't get rid of the twisted feeling in her gut that came every time she imagined Sawyer hurt or dead. Just another bad part of herself that she couldn't survive without.

The last time she'd seen him, he'd been unconscious. They had both thought they would be killed, and so had fought with incensed vigour – Kate had been most astonished when they hadn't been, and further confused. It scared her, too. Now, after being locked up for five days with no clue of why, she wasn't any calmer.

She was almost relieved when she heard the door open, and footsteps enter. A thickset man with a nasty look on his face came towards her. Behind him were three more, of similar build and composure. Despite herself, Kate stepped backwards. One of them smiled, and muttered something to the man next to him.

The lead man opened the door to her cell. The key was then securely replaced in his pocket, and Kate began to try and formulate a plan on getting it.

None of them moved. Kate didn't want to say anything, worried how shaky her voice would sound. Her mouth was dry, her tongue heavy, and her heart hammering faster every second. The leader of the group stepped forwards, and she bravely stood her ground. He took another step, and she flinched but didn't move.

Suddenly, he snaked a hand out and grasped her wrist. She bit her tongue to stop herself protesting, fully aware that they wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if she resisted. Her skin trembled, and she defiantly gazed into the eyes of the man holding her. To her consternation, he only smiled.

There was a sudden flurry of activity. The exact events escaped Kate's notice, but she was aware of the first hulk pushing her backwards, and of the others whispering to each other and moving forward. She might have yelled, because the man then used his other hand to cover her mouth, the smell making her gag. She couldn't move, and when she felt the cold steel wall behind her she was filled with a deep, innate dread. She struggled, but the one holding her back was assisted by bulk and he already had her incapacitated.

Her next move was to lift up one leg and knee him in the groin – but he had been expecting, almost waiting, for the move, and used his own leg to knock hers out of the way. _Sawyer_, she thought, almost praying. She tried to bite the hand over her mouth, but these men knew what they were doing – she couldn't move her lips. One hand was being held behind her with her own weight, and the other was still in a vice-like grip.

She stopped struggling for a moment, hoping to catch them unawares in a moment – but they were obviously well-aware of her intentions, because another of the group came up beside and grabbed her leg when she jerked it. She didn't know if it would be any use screaming, even if she could get the hand off her mouth – would anyone on this boat care?

A hand slipped up underneath her shirt. She twisted against her attackers, wondering how she could have been so stupid last night, to have come back so quietly! She should have jumped, she realised. Taken her chances in the cold, fathomless water. The hand stroked her side carefully, and goose-bumps jumped up all over her skin. _NO!_ she screamed silently.

The hand was caressing her breasts, hidden underneath her bra. She could do absolutely nothing to stop it, even as the fingers moved in slow circles down towards the belt around her waist. Her mind was racing, but her body was stuck, and wouldn't respond.

_Sawyer! Please, Sawyer, help...__ Anyone help..._

"Get off her," came a voice. Kate couldn't see who it belonged to, but she could guess. The pressure on her mouth slackened, and she stopped struggling, pleading silently for salvation.

"Got a problem, Russ?" the man holding her asked.

"Yes, Daryl. I do. Get off her," Russell replied.

"I don't know that you've got the authority to be demanding that, Junior," Daryl retorted. He glanced back at Kate, and for a moment, held eye contact. She couldn't hide the fear, and when he saw how wide her eyes were, he chortled.

"There another reason you don't want me touching her?" he asked. "Because, you know cus', you can't go bossing me around just cause your daddy's got the biggest prick."

"I can boss you around due to the fact that I'm now Chief of On Land Navigation. I think that outranks you, Daryl," Russ replied smugly. Daryl's three friends whispered amongst themselves at the news. Daryl pushed himself away from Kate and took a step towards Russell.

"Since when?" he growled. Russ smiled.

"Since about three hours ago."

"Bullshit!"

"You can go check with the Captain if you like – I'm sure he'll appreciate your compliment, too, if you want me to repeat it?"

With Daryl no longer holding her still, Kate inched sideways so that she could see Russell more clearly. She noticed his eyes were boring into Daryl's hunched figure. The other three were fidgeting silently, hoping to get out without a tongue-lashing themselves. A minute passed, and no-one said anything. Suddenly Russ broke out of his reverie, and blinked a few times.

"Get out," he said angrily, jerking his head towards the door. Daryl did so, slowly and defiantly, his henchmen right on his heels. Russell didn't move, however, and his gaze turned to Kate.

"I'm sorry," he said. "They're not all like that."

"Oh good," Kate said, too fatigued to put in as much sarcasm as she'd like to.

"I probably can't stop them if they try again," he said apologetically. She felt something inside her protest, and did her best to hide the shudder that ran through her body.

"Maybe I'll have escaped before then," Kate said, not really joking. He gazed at her for a little while, appraising her to the extent that she was very uncomfortable.

"Maybe," was all he said, before locking the cage and walking out.

* * *

They did come back. The next day, they came, and even though Kate fought and tried to scream, she couldn't stop them. Daryl raped her, defiled her, and when she thought it was finally over, it was to see one of his friends come forward with an eager look in his eye no man could hide. There was only three of them in total today, but they attacked her with a vengeance – probably a penance for making them wait. She wanted to fight, to scream, to beg, to weep. And she couldn't.

It was over an hour later that they left, leaving her torn, bleeding, and broken.


	8. Chapter 8

Quick Note: Please, people, review! This is the worst torment you could put a writer through... and I'm sick. A brief warning – I'll be going into hiatus for the summer holidays, beginning in a few days. I hope to get two or three more chapters up before then, and I promise I won't leave it on too much of a cliffhanger. I'll be back mid-January.

Dear Skaters: I'm sorry for what happens in the first half. You'll understand later in the chapter. And you'll love it.

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**Chapter Eight**

_Kate moved closer, her fingers moving slowly under Jack's shirt. She breathed out slowly, and he bent to kiss her once more, and together they relished the sensation. Kate felt a blissful calm take over, that she hadn't felt in a week, ever since Sawyer had left._

_They'd managed to find a secluded area of jungle, mostly subconsciously. Who could have known a friendly walk would have turned into this? But then, if they hadn't wanted it to, they never would have come.__ There were just so many problems right now. Ever since they'd returned from the radio tower, their worries had been growing. The Others had backed off, __but__ Jack had no idea what to do with Ben. There was the rescue boat that had never come – though Ben wouldn't shut up about the coming threat. There was Juliet struggling to find a cure for Sun. There was Locke, who wasn't exactly part of their camp anymore – but he hung around their part of the jungle, and Jack was worried someone might start a confrontation. He was very worried that someone might be him._

_Kate had her own issues – had had them ever since taking that pregnancy test after coming back from the radio tower. Then Sawyer had left, and she'd felt not only cold and alone but abandoned. Her feelings for Jack had been simmering softly, too little for her to question them just yet._

_But now – now was the time to question. She wondered whether they would go all the way. Unless something disrupted them, she had no doubt about it – and not even the monster could distract them right now._

_As their hands moved experimentally, Kate felt her thoughts collapse into a calm, serene pool of peace – she wanted this. She was _supposed_ to want it.__ What else could she be wanting right now?_

_"Sawyer," she whispered. And then she snapped back to reality, realising her mistake even as Jack pushed her away. He stared at her, a mixture of shock and confusion and hurt etched across his face. She could do nothing but stare straight back at him._

_And then that primeval, hated, ever-rising feeling sprang up, and latched its claws into her mind._

_RUN! it screamed. GET AWAY!_

_And before she could mumble an apology to Jack, she was running through the jungle, with no destination or thought except the all encompassing need to flee the danger that threatened her comfortably shell._

_She kept running, even though her breathing was ragged and her heart pounding in her throat.__ She tripped a few times, and there were numerous scratches and scrapes appearing all over her body. She only stopped when she realised with shock that the buttons on her shirt were all undone._

_Tears leaking out from clenched shut eyes, Kate did them up with shaking fingers. She couldn't work out what had happened. Worst, she had no idea where she was. But that wasn't too much of an issue – she could just head __e__ast, and that would lead her to the beach eventually, and she could follow it back to camp. To Jack._

_Her breath caught again, and only her current exhaustion stopped her from taking off again. What would she say to Jack? And why couldn't she have Sawyer? __She was angry at him, but she would take back all the hard thoughts if he returned._

_Sawyer, she pleaded. Come home._

_She took a few shaking steps, and began to walk calmly, to stop herself from chilling. Wanting to see where she was, she aimed for the closest tree, and scaled it with expert efficiency. She was enjoying the view, enjoying being able to see around her for at least a mile in every direction – and then she heard a voice._

_"Kate!" Jack called. "Kate!"_

_She drew her legs up against the branch, looking down, trying to stop her throat from closing over. She couldn't face him, not now. Maybe later. He kept moving, unable to find the trail any longer. If he'd had any skill as a tracker, he might have traced her prints to the bottom of the tree – but he didn't, and had only come this far because she'd practically left a highway behind her._

_She didn't call out to him. Over the next week, she would do all in her power to surreptitiously avoid him, not knowing that very soon she wouldn't be able to talk to him._

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Kate woke, her cheeks stained with brown streaks were tears had mixed with dirt. She lifted her head, blinking, unable to fight the despair that was pulling at her, the remains of a dream that was more memory than imagination.

The fire had burned down. She got up and added another few sticks to it, blowing it into life, just for something to do. They didn't need a fire now. It would be dawn, soon enough. Feeling another shiver rack her body, she gave upon the losing battle in her mind, and lay down again – beside Sawyer.

Her movement woke him, and slightly confused, he looked up. She didn't say anything, burrowing into his body heat, trying to express her need without words. He responded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly.

"Jack's dead," she replied, her voice muffled.

"You don't know that," Sawyer replied, sighing.

"Yes I do," Kate said. Sawyer repressed another sigh, and held her closer. He gathered she'd had a nightmare.

"What exactly happened between you two after I left?" he asked.

"Nothing," Kate said. He gave a wry smile, but stopped himself from scoffing out loud.

"Did you sleep with him?" he asked. He hadn't asked before now because he was afraid of the answer.

"No," Kate replied truthfully. She looked up at him, and he placed a light kiss on her forehead, one eyebrow raised. Kate sighed.

"I didn't. I was going to. We were..." she hesitated, unsure of how to go on. She met Sawyer's eyes, and he gave her a searching look. "We were making out and I... I..." Kate felt her mouth twitch into a smile, and she reprimanded herself it wasn't funny. "I said your name."

For a moment, Sawyer couldn't reply. That was certainly intriguing. He wondered what Jack had thought. Finally, he'd won. He started laughing softly.

"It's not funny," Kate said. Sawyer grinned.

"Maybe not. But I'm having a lot of trouble not laughing right now," Sawyer said. "What did he say?"

Kate bit her lip. "I haven't talked to him since," she replied, mortified. "I think I managed three words over the course of a week. I shouldn't have..."

"Hey. Don't start blaming yourself," Sawyer reprimanded her. Kate sighed again.

"We'd better get some more sleep. It'll be light soon," she said. Sawyer agreed, but even though she lay still in his arms and they didn't say anything more, neither slept.


	9. Chapter 9

Quick Note: Time for some answers. I DO know where this is going, believe me. Maybe I should also mention that throughout writing this story I have received a total of ONE review. Am I writing crappy? Or are you all heartless jerks? I thought last chapter might get something, but no...

Just for that, this is the last update before my summer holiday. Unless I write really fast and get another chapter done tonight. I MIGHT be able to update over the summer, maybe early January, but it won't be easy, cause I'll be in the middle of nowhere and I don't think there's an internet connection. Depends how hard I try and how much incentive you readers give me to like and be nice to you.

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**Chapter ****Nine**

Kate sat quietly on the bed in her cell, watching the cell door intently. Two days, and she was no longer sure whether she wanted Daryl to come back or not. She did in a way, because she had promised herself that she would kill him if he did. She found herself looking forward to that, and the feeling scared her. Last time it had come upon her this strong, she'd killed Wayne.

She hadn't seen Russell since his warning Daryl would come back, either – she felt oddly hurt by this. Was he no longer interested in her? Although she thought the less interest they showed in her the better, Russ had, at least, been a spike away from boredom.

Her thoughts drifted. As usual, they drifted to the worst case scenario – Daryl would come back, with his mates, and she wouldn't be able to stop him. Unfortunately, for once the worst case was also the most likely.

Without warning, her mind snapped to a new, possibly worse thought – she hated when it did that. What if she was pregnant? What if he had...? Kate suddenly found the air thick, and almost gagged. She'd rather she had Sawyer's baby. At least it would have been conceived from love, not horror.

A noise at the door had her sitting up straight. She wasn't sure how she could kill someone with no weapons and no element of surprise and a smaller physique. She tensed, though told herself it was probably just breakfast. She assumed it was morning.

It wasn't breakfast, but it wasn't Daryl either. It was Russ, that lazy, sardonic smile aimed right at her. Feeling particularly hostile, Kate just glared at him. He sighed, and stepped forward, unlocking the door.

"Come on. I need you," he said. She stood up, pretending to submit – but as she came level with the door, she struck out with one fist. Feeling it connect with a satisfying thud, she started to run, but hardly even made it one step when she felt a powerful arm stop her. Struggling furiously, she wondered how someone who looked so laidback and easygoing got so damn strong.

"Now that isn't very nice," Russ commented, stopping her resistance completely. She swore silently when she felt him lock a pair of handcuffs around her wrists, behind her back. That would make things very difficult indeed. "Let's not try that again, right?"

"Stuff you," Kate growled, even as he pushed her forward. He clicked his tongue.

"Well, I hope your attitude changes soon. I need your help," he remarked calmly.

"I'm not helping you," Kate replied coldly.

"I think you'll change your mind," he asserted.

"What are you going to do? Torture me? Hate to break it to you, but that's already happened," Kate said bitterly.

"Sorry about that," Russ said as he led her upstairs, obviously confident he knew where he was going. She noticed he felt right at home on the giant boat. Not a good sign – for her, at least, or her chances of escape.

"No you're not," Kate said. He sighed, obviously aware that arguing wouldn't change her mind.

"I don't suppose you noticed my new rank the other day?" he asked suddenly. Kate had noticed, but hadn't thought anything of it, let alone remember it, so shook her head. "I'm now chief of On-Land Navigation," he continued proudly. "Which is something I've been striving for... for at least three years."

"Good on you," Kate said, only half sarcastically.

"You haven't wondered, by any chance, why we've kept you alive this long, have you?"

"I did," Kate admitted coolly.

"Well, it just so happens that we're all a little nervy about going deep into that forbidding jungle without proper knowledge of what's in there and how dangerous it is – knowledge that you have."

"Oh. I see. And what made you think I'd help you?" she asked.

"Well, there is the fact I could kill you anytime I like. But I prefer honey over vinegar. Help me today, and tomorrow, I'll let you talk to your redneck boyfriend."

Kate stopped walking in the middle of the corridor. He pushed her a little, and she stumbled forward, feeling slightly numb. Surely this was proof Sawyer was alive. Her thoughts stampeded around, and it seemed like only a few seconds later Russ stopped her outside a door.

"Deal?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. She swallowed guiltily.

"Deal."

He opened the door and ushered her inside. She stepped in to find four other people in there, none of whom she recognised. Russell introduced her curtly.

"My second, Derrick, assistant, Colin, Second Navigator, Paul, and ship's Captain."

Kate noticed he didn't give her a name for the captain, and assumed it meant she wasn't on any kind of friendly terms – though she would have guessed that anyway. The man had a hard, chiselled face, and thick brows hanging above dark, cold eyes. There was also a certain trace of something similar to fear in Russell's snappy salute when he introduced the captain.

The short wiry man she now knew as Paul, the navigator, pulled out several maps and laid them on the table. As he did this, Russ carefully uncuffed Kate, and she just managed to prevent a gasp of relief. The ache in her wrists wasn't too bad, but her shoulders were stiff as well.

"Do you recognise this?" the navigator asked. Kate studied it for a moment, completely blank. Then it was obvious to her – at the same moment she saw the captain give Russ a cruel, mocking smile.

"Is it the island?" Kate asked. Russell smiled, and the captain frowned. She tensed slightly, picking up a current of dislike within the room.

"Yes. Can you tell from these where you camp was?" he asked. Kate looked over at them again, not wanting to fail under the hard scrutiny of those black eyes. But then something else triggered – where your camp _was_. As if it wasn't there anymore. Swallowing slightly, she gazed hopelessly at the wavy lines and notations.

Then something caught her attention. A ridge of land, like a peninsula, coming out from one corner. She'd seen that ridge before, only from a different angle. She scanned down, and something else caught her mind – after a moment, she had a sudden memory of Sayid showing her the maps he had stolen from Rousseau. That section there was the so-well-named _Territoire__Fonce_ – the dark territory.

She was too far south then. She let one finger trace up the coast, now able to detect the difference between certain lines, sensing which meant a high drop down to the ocean, or the subtle change in contours meaning a beach.

Three beaches in a row, then a headland – she could see it, in her mind's eye, that headland standing out in front of the setting sun every night. How many nights had she seen that sunset?

Her finger came to rest on the centre of the middle beach – the captain's frown grew more intense, but Russ smiled, and the navigator nodded respectfully.

"You ever used a map like this before, girl?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. Not since high school, at least, but she didn't think that was relevant.

"Very good work then. Exact," the navigator said. She felt a surge of pride, swallowed by shame – why was she helping them? Because she wanted to see Sawyer? Was that a good enough reason for what could be seen as a betrayal?

"There are other people on this island, aren't there?" Derrick asked. Kate nodded. "Do you know where they are?"

This, at least, she had no compunction about telling them – if they were going after the Others, that was fine by her. She studied the map again, trying to turn the flat paper into a scene. A long way north, she saw something that she definitely understood.

"They sometimes live here," she said, pointing at a miniature island of the shore of the big island. The Other's own Alcatraz. For the first time, she saw something positive in the captain's demeanour – a shift backwards, so he was no longer staring at her so hard. Kate tried to locate the Other's main home, the Barracks – she'd seen a map of it before, so she'd thought it would be easy enough. But this was a map of the coastline, with few markings on the actual island.

"There's something else, about... here," she guessed. It had to be relatively close to the shore to be close to a submarine – she hoped. She had the impression that failure wouldn't be seen as acceptable in this company.

"That's all for now," the captain said, the first words she'd heard him say. They sent chills down her spine, and she couldn't meet his eyes. Russ jerked his head at Colin, who came forward to lead Kate back to her cell. As she was going, she heard Russell's voice.

"...See dad? She's useful. Take her on land with us, she can point out landmarks, Paul can map them..."

The voice faded as the door closed, but Kate's mind was stuck on the idea of getting back to solid land. And then escaping.


	10. Chapter 10

Quick Note: Sorry for the long hiatus, and yes, I am having a good holiday. I have had a few reviews, and I've turned on anonymous ones, in case that was what was stopping you before (I didn't know it was off, sorry). Well, I'm sure you're all waiting for the Skate reunion. I've spent days thinking of how to write this. I hope you like it.

Also, was anyone wondering where Finn had got to? Well, she's back. Mainly because I need to put her back in somewhere, and here seemed good. Now, I know this isn't the usual style of the story (this isn't a flashback, even though I'm due for one), but like I said, I've had this chapter in my head for days. And I want to bring another female character into the story – anyone care whether it's a castaway or newbie, or should I just do the writing?

I also made up a new word. Articulable. Which apparently isn't real, but it worked. Very proud of myself for that. On with the chapter, I'm rambling...

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

Sawyer heard the door unlock, and stood up. He knew he didn't have a chance at fighting or escaping – he'd tried enough times – but it made him feel a little better. His cell, though he wasn't to know it, was different from Kate's, in that it was isolated. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he was scared, and that made him angry. Mostly, he was scared about Kate. He'd been knocked out, and hadn't seen what had happened to her. He didn't know where he was, or where she was. No-one had spoken so much as a word to him, despite threats, taunts, and reciprocal silence. He hadn't tried asking nicely. If they wanted to be polite, they'd gone the wrong way about it.

Also, the food was crap.

When the door opened, he wondered vaguely if he should try attacking the guard again – he had done that the first few times, but not for a while now, and they probably wouldn't be expecting it.

But before he could make up his mind, a flash of something brown was leaping towards him, and he felt himself pushed backwards. For a moment, he tried to raise his hands in defence, and then suddenly, his mind made sense of the tangle of brown hair pushing into his chest.

There was nothing to do but sit down again and wrap his arms around her and hold her for as long as he could. He didn't know why she was here now, after all this time, but he knew he wasn't going to let her go again.

He felt a slight dampness in his shirt, and he realised she was crying. With a shock, he felt his own eyes moistening, and he blinked rapidly. He looked down again, as Kate looked up. He opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance.

She was pressing her lips against his, hungrily, desperately, as if she were drowning and this was the last source of oxygen left to her. Somewhere between bouts of shock and delight and anger, Sawyer realised that there weren't any words in existence that could express what he was feeling now. Nothing articulable, anyway – the intensity of their kisses might come close.

* * *

Finn looked around her, pleased. This place was _nice_. As in, furnished, painted walls, luxuries, and really nice people. Incredible. They left her alone most of the time, which was good, but not always alone – every now and then they came and asked her weird questions. She figured it was worth it. 

The one she saw most often was named Ben. She liked him – he was always patient, and he listened to everything she had to say. He also kept telling her she could trust him – that was good. Easier than trying to work out for herself who to trust. Simply, she had one task – to trust this man. To answer his questions, and have everything she wanted provided for.

She heard a commotion outside, and looked up, interested. But no-one came to talk to her about it, so she let the spark of curiosity fade into oblivion.

It might have been much later that Ben came back in. He was frowning. Finn couldn't help but to shrink back, just a little. He noticed, and his face came up into a smile.

"Finn, can I ask you something?" he asked. She nodded. This was how the questions always started.

"Do you remember how you got here?" he asked. She considered for a moment.

"Through the jungle," she said after a pause. He repressed a sigh.

"The jungle is very big – do you know from which direction?"

"From that way," Finn said, pointing to the east. He just stopped himself from frowning again.

"Are you sure?" he asked. She nodded, very certain.

"Definitely. I came off the boat, onto the beach, through the jungle for a while on a _that_ direction –" She tilted her arm to show him more clearly. "And then I met you, and we came along _this_ direction, and we arrived here. So now, the beach I came from is that direction." She pointed east again, and Ben suddenly realised that, even without knowing the terms, she had used vector addition to calculate where she was from her starting point. He nodded thoughtfully, and gave her another smile. She smiled back, very pleased with herself.

As he left, Ben couldn't help but think that this deal may very well be worth it.

* * *

"You okay?" Kate asked, yet again. Sawyer stroked her hair. 

"Fine. Now stop talking," he replied, catching her in another kiss. They were lying together on his bed, though they couldn't do anything more than kiss, very aware of the guard outside the door. Kate let herself sink in beside him. She knew it couldn't last, that they would be separated again soon enough – but she wouldn't let herself think about that time. Sawyer, however, wouldn't even admit that this would end. He would fight them to the death if need be, but they weren't taking Kate away from him again.

"What do they want with us, Freckles?" he asked, sighing slightly. She twisted a little guiltily.

"They want to use us to find their way around the island," she said.

"Tough chance," he muttered, and her face flushed a little. He was sharp enough to notice it.

"What did you tell them, Kate?" he asked, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"They wanted to know where the Others' camp is," she replied. She felt him relax a little, but not much.

"Is that all?"

"I think so," she said evasively. He didn't press the matter, but pushed his mouth towards hers again. She broke away, still distracted.

"You don't have to help them," he said, and she looked towards him. Her chest ached, and she wondered if there was any way of explaining to him that she did.

"Yes I do," she tried.

"Not for me you don't," he insisted. "I don't deserve you anyway."

"Yes you do," Kate reprimanded. "And what else can I do?"

"Say no," he suggested, and she thought of what would happen if she did that. Russ wouldn't protect her. They'd both end up dead, or worse.

"I can't," she said. He lifted her chin up, and forced her to meet his eyes.

"They hurt you?" he asked. She remembered for a moment the tearing pain Daryl had inflicted upon her, the way he had twisted her arms around…

"No," she lied. Her eyes flickered away from his, and she cursed silently. Why couldn't she lie to him? She could lie to anyone else. But not him. He put an arm around her.

"Tell me, Kate. What happened?"

"Nothing," she insisted, glad that her voice didn't waver like it was threatening to. He sighed.

"If they laid a finger on you, I'll –"

"I know you will," Kate interrupted. "I know what you'll do. And then they'll kill you."

Sawyer was momentarily dumbstruck. Her reasoning pierced him like a blade, and once more he felt like crying. Her answer, being as much as to reassure him that she loved him, also proved that they had hurt her. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anything else. He didn't want to know how, or why.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry, Kate. I'll get us out of here…"

He waited for the inevitable – for her to question him, 'how?' But she didn't. Maybe she wanted to believe in him. Maybe she didn't want to hurt him even more, by reminding him of just how helpless she was.

Anything else they wanted to say was interrupted when they heard the key in the door. Sawyer's grip tightened around her, drawing her closer. Kate reluctantly pushed him away again.

"I have to go," she whispered. He wanted to kill whoever came through that door to take her away. She knew it, too. "Don't," she whispered. "You'll get us in more trouble. I might be able to convince them to let me come back."

"I don't trust them," he replied fiercely. The guard waited patiently, as Kate stood up, Sawyer still holding her arm.

"Neither do I," Kate reassured him. "But we don't have much choice."

"I'll kill every single one of them, if that's what it takes to keep you safe," he said, his deep blue eyes burning with passion. She leaned to him, and kissed him once more, lightly.

"I love you. I'll be all right."

"I love you, Kate," he replied. With every atom of his being protesting, he watched her walk out, and saw her smile sadly at him as the door closed again. He didn't understand how she could be so complacent. What he did know, was that he had to do whatever it took to get her away. No price was too high for her safety.


	11. Chapter 11

Quick Note: Man, I hate when this happens. I have a to-do list of all my literary tasks, which includes finishing this fic. Seeing as this should be easiest with the least to go (hehe, I know how it ends) I'm doing it first. Sorry about the holiday hiatus. That should be mostly over, though I might be a little slow until I get back into the swing of things.

Reviews, please! I'm being nice. You're top priority. So can't I have some reciprocal niceness? Here, I'm finally going to get out what happened before Sawyer left and why he did. By the way, has anyone figured out the title yet? I think I haven't gotten the message across as well as I wanted to, and to do so would require me writing an extra dozen filler chapters. So 'meh'.

--Okay, I know this isn't fair, the long hiatus. But I now own a computer with internet (where before I was using the family computer which was always in high demand). I have the story a chapter or two ahead, and I've been writing even though I couldn't publish until now.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

They had settled into a routine quickly enough. And only now did it seem entirely pointless. They would wake, eat a mango, walk, stop for lunch (more mango, or maybe papaya), walk some more, and finally look belatedly at their stash of mangoes before deciding to go to sleep without 'dinner'.

Where they were walking to wasn't actually somewhere. Running that thought through her head, Kate wondered if her sanity had been damaged over the past two weeks. Add to that: their destination wasn't anywhere until they knew where they wanted to end up. Which was the main problem.

They wanted to go back. They wanted to look for other survivors of the attack. They hadn't seen a soul. Even the animals of the jungle seemed to be avoiding them – maybe they understood Sawyer's complaints of hunger and desire for a real meal.

Suddenly Kate lifted her head, and sniffed the air. Sawyer paused.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly. A half-smile touched her lips for a moment, then it was gone.

"I think we've gone about as far south as we can," she replied. Leading the way, Kate followed the smell. In a few minutes, the pair stepped out onto a beautiful beach, which held the feeling of never being touched by human feet before. The sand was sparkling and white, the water a warm blue, and it was almost begging them to come and have a swim.

The old Sawyer would already be halfway down the beach towards it. The old Kate would be following, smiling wryly to herself. Now, they just stood and looked at it. Kate thought how perfect the spot was. How ruined they were. The horror and bloodshed and pain they had seen and inflicted.

"C'mon," she said, turning away. "We need to get moving." Moving to where, she didn't say, because she didn't know.

They slept that night in the shelter of a large stand of trees, situated next to a large rock face. It sheltered them from the wind, and hopefully from any potential attackers. They didn't keep watches – they knew it would never work. The time they spent walking each day, they needed the sleep. And they probably wouldn't be able to hear or see anyone coming anyway. Some nights they put together the efforts for a fire. Tonight they didn't bother.

Kate tried to remember when this had all started. This feeling of hopelessness and abandonment. It had been there before the beach had been attacked. That had sent her into shock, but hadn't harmed her. This was deeper. This was betrayal.

She knew, technically, what had caused it. But she liked to torture herself, going over it slowly. Only after she went through it each night could she bring herself to sleep. Sawyer was already asleep, so she knew he wouldn't wonder why she was still sitting up, looking into the darkness.

* * *

She sat in her tent, staring hard at the opposite wall. Another spasm ran through her, and for a few seconds she had to clench her teeth to stop from crying out. The pain was enormous. Like nothing she had ever felt before. It didn't twinge or stab, but every minute or so there would be a clenching in her gut that reminded her of someone wringing out a wet cloth. Stretch out, and _twist_...

She could guess what was happening. But she'd never known it was like this, so painful and damaging. She'd never even taken a test, to confirm her pregnancy. If she didn't know, she didn't have to tell anyone. Now, she realised, she'd never need to tell anyone. It was over before it began.

_Probably for the best_, Kate thought. Another cramp hit her and she bit her tongue, at the same time as she leaned forward, her hands clenching her abdomen. _Please__, please make it stop!_ She begged silently. Jack would probably have some sort of pain relief, if she asked him. Juliet might know how to work around the pain. Sawyer would hold her hand. Everyone else would sympathise with her and cast pitying looks. If she told them.

If. And no amount of pain was great enough to make her call for help. She'd never asked before and she wouldn't now. This was private, anyway. Not even Sawyer would know –

"Mornin', Freckles," came a voice outside her tent. She tried to call out, tell him not to come in (though he probably would anyway) but right then another wrenching cramp tried to turn her intestines inside out, and she had to fight hard not to scream.

"You okay?" Sawyer asked, pulling open the flap. Kate forced her body to relax, and in a moment of painlessness cast him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired. Having a nap."

"Sitting up?" he asked, frowning. He was a good enough liar to know when someone wasn't telling him the truth.

"Mmm," Kate replied, already seeing Sawyer poking bowling ball sized holes in her story.

"And you're _tired_? You slept like a bear in hibernation last night, and I know cause you wouldn't wake up even when I poked you."

As he spoke, Kate felt another spasm run through her. It felt smaller. Less pronounced. Good, maybe it was settling down. More like a shaking dry than a wringing out.

"Well, I did have to deal with your snores," Kate said, trying to sound light hearted. The seeming dying-down of the pain allowed her to participate in their banter a little more effectively.

"What you talking about? I don't snore," Sawyer protested. Kate met his gaze evenly, ready to argue back, to convince him to leave her alone –

– But just then a colossal wave of pain hit her, ricocheting all the way from her groin to her chest. Her words turned into a grunt and then as she clamped her mouth shut, a hissing, pain-filled sigh. Sawyer started forward alarmed, the tent flap falling shut behind him. Then he looked back at it, seemingly making up his mind.

"I'm going to get Jack," he said, turning.

"No!" Kate gasped. Jack couldn't know. She would never ask him. Bad enough that Sawyer knew. "Just... go. Get out. Do NOT tell Jack."

This only confused and alarmed Sawyer further. He crouched down, hovering between questioning her further and disobeying her and getting Jack anyway.

The intense waves of pain passed, and Kate tried to smile at Sawyer. "Just a stomach ache. I'll be fine." He still didn't seem convinced, but she thought the worst of it might have passed and so she tried to act normal.

"You sure?" he asked. She nodded, and even forced herself to her feet. She began pushing him out of the tent, but then another cramp hit her and she doubled over. To stop herself from falling, she grabbed the closest object – Sawyer. She was now pushing him out and pulling him towards her at the same time.

"Kate!" he yelled, and lowered her down carefully. Suddenly his eyes widened and Kate cursed herself. He knew. "Kate, talk to me."

"Just go, Sawyer," she said again. But she knew he wasn't going to leave her. And she hated him for it.

"You're pregnant," he accused.

"No, I'm not," Kate replied harshly.

"You should have told me."

"Why? I didn't even know myself –" she cut off and grabbed her stomach. He sighed.

"We can't keep doing this. Keeping things from each other."

"Not now, Sawyer."

"It's never now."

Somehow, they both realised then. Whatever they'd had, however short it had been – it was over.

The sun was setting the next day when Kate came out of her tent. The cramps had settled down. She had eaten a little earlier. She hadn't let on that she wasn't feeling well, because Jack would almost certainly want to check on her. Speaking of...

"Maybe he's hurt. Or lost," Jack said. Few people around him seemed to care. Kate didn't have to ask who he was talking about.

"He's fine," she said. Jack looked over. She could sense his evaluation of her appearance – her hair wild, huge bags under her eyes. Luckily, he didn't say anything.

"Where is he? Sawyer? No-one's seen him since yesterday."

Kate didn't know for sure. But she had a fairly good idea, and she knew why.

"He's gone," she replied, turning away.

"Gone where?" Jack asked, looking more confused by the second. "Kate, what's going –"

"Gone. He's not coming back," she interrupted, and she had walked off before anyone could ask her anything more.

She lay on her bed and cried, for so many reasons she wasn't sure what was hurting the most.


	12. Chapter 12

Quick note: You may not like the ending of this story, which is coming up soon. Thing is, it may not end there... On the other hand, it might. I love loose ends **:- 

* * *

**

**Chapter Twelve**

The feel of solid land under her feet meant more to Kate than she had thought it would. It tilted crazily for a few seconds, which she knew was a natural reaction, but she refused to let it bother her. Especially not in front of her captors.

It had been a week. She'd had no idea what was happening around her, and she hadn't been able to see Sawyer again. Russell had come for her earlier that morning – very early, actually, just after sunrise, it turned out – and told her that they'd be going on land today. He had made her promise not to try and escape – she'd done so, with fingers crossed – and then informed her that if she didn't come back to the ship, Sawyer would be killed.

Now, however, he seemed to think that wasn't enough. She sighed inwardly when she saw him get the handcuffs out, but was surprised to see him only lock one of her wrists – he then attached the other end to his own wrist.

"You'd be surprised how easy some people find it to get out of these," he said quietly, and she couldn't be sure whether he was smiling or smirking.

"Can you?" she asked. His smile only widened.

"Know where we are?" was his only reply. Kate looked up and down the beach. Most of her treks had been through various bits of jungle – rarely had she travelled along the beach. But by gauging east, she knew they were a fair way north from her camp – or what had been her camp. She had no idea if it was still there. She could only hope – and that hope was running out with every day that passed.

"Vaguely," Kate replied eventually. He studied her closely.

"Any landmarks around here that you know of?" he asked. Despising herself, Kate thought carefully.

"Yes. About a mile that way, the Black Rock."

"A Black Rock?" Russ asked, amused. "That's your landmark?"

"Wait till you see it," Kate muttered in reply. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't protest to her leading the way into the jungle. Their group consisted of five men, plus Kate. Not one of them saw the pair of eyes watching them, hidden in the jungle as they passed.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Russ asked. Kate knew he was joking, trying to lighten the dark mood which Kate suspected might be emanating from herself. She's seen the marker indicating that they had entered the Dark Territory, but hadn't pointed it out. On the one hand, she didn't want to tell them any more than she had to in order to keep her side of the deal, but then again, she thought it might be fun – in a dark humour sort of way – to tell them what Rousseau had told them, about the sickness beginning here and Montand losing his arm.

She kept quiet. She began to realise what else Russell had achieved in cuffing them together – she was technically leading the party, but with him by her side, anyone could think he was the real leader, and she was by his side.

She felt uneasy herself. They'd never had any proof of the 'sickness', and Rousseau wasn't the most reliable witness. But still... the back of her neck was prickling, and she didn't like it.

It felt good to be back on land, though. She even found herself glad that she was on the island... the dense jungle and sandy beaches felt so familiar now.

Up ahead, she saw a clearing. Looking up hopefully, she minutely increased her pace. She recognised this area... they were here.

"The Black Rock," she said aloud, and Russ looked at her. The view of the old ship was blocked by a stand of trees, and she lead the way forward. She felt her stomach flip uncertainly when she saw the crate of explosives lying open outside, but quickly clamped down on the feeling.

"My God..." Russ breathed beside her. Several of his companions muttered something amongst themselves, and one of them began scribbling on a piece of paper. Suddenly, he turned to her. "How did this get here?"

Kate shrugged. "Tsunami?" she guessed, her expression innocent. Russ frowned, and once more, Kate found her gaze drawn back to the crate. The crate of dynamite... A plan began to take shape, and it scared her as much as it would scare them.

She moved forward as casually as possible, but her heart was hammering wildly. _What am I doing?_ she almost screamed to herself. Sure, late notice, but she should be able to think of a better plan than this.

She couldn't tell if Russell had seen the crate, as she edged closer to it with each step. Or, if he had, what it meant, because you couldn't really tell what it was until you got really close...

"Wonder what it was heading for..." Russ murmured beside her, and she glanced sideways quickly – he was still looking at the ship. She took a deep breath. Only half a step away from the dynamite...

Kate didn't think about it – she knew that if she focused on the consequences of this, if she dared imagine what could happen in the next five minutes, she give it up.

She bent down, and grabbed two sticks of dynamite. She didn't have time to choose the driest bits, or handle with care. Russ turned at her sudden movement, but didn't comprehend it. She felt a smirk of satisfaction creep across her face at that – for the first time since they'd met, she had the drop on him.

The first stick, she hurled with all her might away from them – as she'd hoped, it exploded on impact. The other, she held carefully, her breath coming fast and her heart pounding with fear and adrenaline. The force of the explosion on her right swept past her, enough to make her suck her breath in, winded. One of the men in the group, slightly closer to the blast, was knocked off his feet, and the others staggered.

For a time, there was only stillness. They were all looking at her now – and the second stick of dynamite in her right hand, held slightly aloft. She didn't have time for them. She turned to Russ.

"Take the cuffs off," she snapped. He didn't move, and after the initial flinch seemed to have regained his confidence.

"What _are_ you doing?" he asked slowly. She no longer found his sardonic attitude funny in the least – she hated it.

"Do as I say, or I drop it," she snarled at him. His composure was shattered monetarily, and she felt another pulse of satisfaction. Then he regained his balance.

"I don't think you will," he replied calmly. She raised both eyebrows.

"You don't? Well, before we get started on that, let me tell you something... dynamite is very unstable. I don't even have to want to drop it – it could go off at any time. No warning." She could tell she was hitting something there. It scared her, but she kept going. "So I suggest you don't make any sudden movements. Don't let them –" she pointed at the other four hovering uncertainly. "Come another step closer."

"Okay," Russ said, now doing his best to keep her calm. "But I think it would be best if you put that down... slowly..."

"You do?" Kate asked, tilting her head slightly. She felt slightly giddy, and it gave her a maniacal look – which probably helped her cause. "I don't. I think it would be best if I held onto this..."

"You know what you're doing?" he asked, changing tack. "You blow us both up and you friend dies."

"Probably," Kate said, hating herself for it. But it was too late to back out now. If she gave herself up, they would almost certainly kill Sawyer to punish her. Her mind was whirring, trying to thin beyond her either being blown up or tied up. If she could get them doing what she said, hold Russ hostage and make the others release Sawyer... it sounded thin. It was better than nothing, however.

"I didn't peg you for the suicidal type," Russ said. For a second, their eyes met, and he was shocked to see the certainty in hers. Nothing that suggested she was bluffing.

"You think I'm stupid enough to think you wouldn't kill me when you were done with me anyway? Like you killed my friends?"

For a second, thinking about Jack and Claire and everyone else who could be dead, she had an odd urge. She wanted it to blow. Never before had she felt anything like it – the sudden desire to say, _Fuck this_, and blow the entire clearing and the stupid damn ship sky high. The irony of it didn't escape her.

Then it passed, and she was pulled back to the imminent danger, and how she'd much prefer to live.

"So killing me... you think that's worth it?"

Kate smiled, and he swallowed at the venom in it.

"I'd get them, too," she said jerking her head at his friends. "Because, you see, if this stick in my hand goes off... then so do all them." Russ looked down at the open box of explosives at her feet, and the hundred or so sticks of volatile dynamite. Now he did look nervous.

"Take the cuffs off," she repeated, and hesitantly, he withdrew a small key from his back pocket. She felt a thrill of elation, as he unlocked the cuffs binding them together. He then immediately took a step back.

His friends all had guns out. For a moment, she wondered if they'd take the risk and shoot her. There was no guarantee that the dynamite wouldn't go off if they took her out, but then it could anyway...

Gunfire.


End file.
